You Can Probably Deduce What Happened ...

Here's what we did about it:

Officer Sixpack Bicep of the Stiletto Flats Police Department appeared to be on steroids. Steroids, as it turns out, are a big fat no-no in the "illegal substance statute" that falls under several Stiletto Flats penal codes. So, putting in motion a rumor that Officer Bicep might be partaking of such to some of the higher ups in the department?

Boom. Instant dismissal of charges.

Which was almost as instant as the dismissal of Officer Sixpack Bicep of the Stiletto Flats Police Department. See you later Officer Bicep! And your nepotism-laced ways, too. Pretty easy stuff.

The bigger remaining question ("Why?") was rather simple to answer: It was because of Petit and his vindictive nature.

Naturally, once Clark was sprung from the slammer, he went directly to the little twit's hangout and unceremoniously did this to him:

And (while it wasn't exactly politically correct or even nice to have done so) Jeff and I watched in admiration as Petit eventually went kersplat on the pavement below.

Moving forward with the matter at hand

Okay, so maybe I touched up my jail photo a little bit, you know, for aesthetics. And maybe the original looked more like this...

And maybe I have a preference when it comes to certain foods. I don't trust nature, okay? What, you put a seed in the ground and in a couple of weeks you pull a potato out of a ground and you're just supposed to pop that in your mouth? That's the sketchiest thing I've ever heard! No!
No, you take that potato and run some science over it and dehydrate it and make it super-concentrated so when you add water to it, it's amazing. That's how you do food!

Mm-MMM!!

Anyway, let's re-focus; Henri Petit was able to put ME, an actual card-carrying Unbelieveable IN JAIL! How?? WHY?!? Does he have a better lawyer than we do?
This is what we need to work on right now!

I may not have helped my own defense effort...

Yep, I got arrested.
When they showed up to get me (after requesting autographs and selfies), the officers said, "Uh, Mr. Brooks, we hate to do this but you're being charged with Aggravated Assault on a Mr. Henry Pet-it." They don't speak French, I guess. That's all right, I knew who they were talking about. I have certainly Assaulted him and it's because he Aggravates me, so...
"Okay, sounds about right. Let's go." I hopped in the back of their squad car and away we went.

Hey neat! I've never been in the back of one of these before!

We got down to the jail station precinct whatever, did some paperwork (more autographs and selfies) and I was assigned to a cell with two other inmates.

If I'm being honest, which I am, so far, jail was not too bad. Oh sure, there were more than a few criminals there who hold a grudge against The Unbelievables and tried to kill me, but that's gonna happen.
Pretty soon it was dinner time and here's the amazing thing; they served whipped potatoes and they were better than Jeff's! I asked what the secret was and the chef (a guy naked Lucky who was in for boosting car stereos) and he said, "they're dehydrated flakes and we add water." Mmmm! Look into that, Jeff!

Anyway, Mr. Poon arranged for my bail and I'm out now and we need to do something about Henri Petit again, I guess.

Hoosegow Time

*ring, ring*

The phone rang. I was the only one home at the Unbelieva-Base that morning.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Michael," it was Jeff. "Meet me at the Stiletto Flats police station. We've got to bail Clark out of the can. I'll explain everything when you get here."

And here I thought the day was going to be on the boring side ...

I was at the station 20 minutes later. Jeff had already started the paperwork and before I took off to meet him I'd given a call to Chung S. Poon, our crackerjack attorney at law. I bumped into several police officers I knew on the way in and we exchanged pleasantries. (The Unbelievables are on excellent terms with Stiletto Flats' men in blue.) I was directed to a side office down the hall from the station's main entrance. Jeff was sitting at a table.

"What happened?" I asked him. "Is Clark okay?"

"Yeah ... seems that little bugger Petite has been up to no good. He hung Clark on trumped up charges of aggravated assault if you can believe it. The police said they had no choice but to run him in. I was at least able to pull a favor so we could spring him in short order. He'll be out in a few ..."

"'Aggravated assault?' That's bodily injury with a deadly weapon. All Clark's ever done was lift the little twit up by the scruff of his neck and toss him through a window. Granted, he's done it over and over and over again but it's all been in the spirit of necessity. Clark's never used a weapon against him ..."

Jeff agreed. "Exactly. So I don't know where these charges are coming from ..."

With bail set and the particulars completed, Clark came out and we headed for Poon's offices.

"Seems serious this time," our buddy Chung confessed while reviewing everything. The police department had forwarded the charges to him and he'd looked them over before we got there. "Apparently Petite has documented your abuses against him over the course of the last year. That's how the police were able to arrest you. He's going to use them to make his case in court," we were informed.

"That weasely little bastard" Clark mumbled. "He's worked some pretty lowdown tactics before but this one's his lowest yet. How did he record any of that? You know, it doesn't matter. Every single thing he crops up with I can justify." Jeff and I exchanged looks. We knew when it came to Petite Clark had a hot head.

Poon put down the paperwork he was looking at. "Clark, let me ask you something. Have you ever told Petite 'Enjoy your window shopping' after kicking him through paned glass?"

"Probably," Clark responded.

"Ever told Petite 'There's nothing like fall in New York' while tossing him off a skyscraper?"

"I might have ..."

"Well those are just a few of the things Petite has listed as background fodder for these charges. We'll find out soon enough. Your court date is Monday. I got them to expedite this whole affair so we can run with it pronto. Once I go over everything in this paperwork thoroughly I'll give you a call and we'll discuss the details. Meanwhile? Don't do anything. Relax and stay away from Petite."

Little did we know this wasn't going to be the cut a dried situation we thought. Petite had some real corkers up his little sleeves ...